Heather
by Thefanficmistress
Summary: Heather decides that it’s time to step away from her crumbling life and see if she can make it on her own. She secludes herself in a small cabin in Canada but soon finds she’s not alone and she isn’t the only one with wounds to heal. A Wolverine story
1. Intro

Title: Heather

Author: Fanficexpress A.K.A Shadowkat83

Rating: R for blood/gore and strong violence

Summary: Heather decides that it's time to step away from her crumbling life and see if she can make it on her own. She secludes herself in a small cabin in Canada but soon finds she's not alone and she isn't the only one with wounds to heal.

Author's Note: I've been looking all over the net but I have yet to find a story that takes place immediately after Logan breaks free from the weapon X facility. That time period has always interested me so this will be my take on the events that occurred right after Logan escaped from the test facility. This is when his humanity was estranged and his killer instincts were in full bloom.

**Introduction:**

Journal Entry:

Every night was the same. He'd always have terrible nightmares. He'd wake up screaming, crying and shaking uncontrollably. He couldn't tell me what these dreams consisted of; he couldn't quite find his tongue, not yet. He'd just whimper and cry alone in the dark with sorrowful eyes that made my heart burst. I use to try to console him, but he'd push me away. He didn't want someone to coddle him and tell him there weren't any monsters under his bed. For him the monsters were real, very much real.

Every night was the same. I'd sit in the rickety wooden chair that sat cattycorner to the little twin bed he slept on. He'd become frightened if the blinds and curtains were open so I always made sure they were shut tight. They'd shut out not only the light but the outside world. His bed was in the center of the room. He couldn't sleep if he was too close to a door or window. He couldn't sleep if I wasn't somewhere near, to protect him. I'd sit quietly in the dark listening to him draw in shaky breaths. I'd wait for the inevitable hitch and the moans that signaled the start of a nightmare. I'd call his name when I heard the signs. I'd use a sweet singsong voice and every time he'd relax and the nightmare would fall away.


	2. Chapter 1

**Part 1: Settling in**

There's something about open road that makes a person stop, think and re-evaluate. There wasn't another car in sight and all the radio stations had long ago turned to static. It was only her and her dog in the old Chevy pick-up truck and he wasn't much of a conversationalist, not that she expected him to be. The road and the snowy landscape put her in a semi-trance and she found herself having the most profound of thoughts. She sighed out loud and reached over to give the Irish wolfhound aptly named Brute a good scratch behind the ears.

"At least I know I've got you." She smiled a hollow smile as the clumsy truck slowly made its way down a narrow side road that was densely lined with leafless trees. She watched as the road became narrower and less defined.

"Here we are." She spoke to Brute as her car sputtered out into a small clearing. She gazed out of her dirty windshield incredulously. This whole section of the world looked untouched by time and man. The only unnatural structure was the medium sized cabin in the middle of the clearing and a water pump that looked as if it had seen better days. Both man made structures seemed to have intertwined itself with the wildlife and flora, letting vines and ivy climb up its sides. She opened her squeaky car door and stepped out letting Brute bound out after her. He dashed around to stretch his legs and then obediently stuck close to his master, sniffing the air and keeping a wary eye. She gave his head a pat to relax him but he was still bristled and cautious. She made her way up the three stone steps and onto the undersized patio that had a small rocker that was holey and eaten by termites. The wooden slacks of the patio whined and creaked under foot and she stepped gingerly, praying quietly that they didn't snap under her weight. Taking another deep breath she jiggled the doorknob and to her surprise it was unlocked. Metal scraped against metal as she turned the rusty doorknob and opened the door. She immediately broke into a fit of coughs as the dust swirled up. She blanched at the closed in smell.

"I've got a lot of work to do huh?" She said to Brute as he cautiously entered the new space. Dim light filtered in through the windows that were almost completely covered in climbing vines. The limited light played on the silk spider web strands that hung from the ceilings. Dodging the spider webs as best she could she made it to the small wooden staircase that led upstairs. Running her finger along the uneven railing she grimaced at the thick layer of dust she picked up. Blowing it off her fingertips she looked beyond the steps to find a little sitting area with a round table and two hand carved chairs. Adjacent to the sitting nook was the kitchen that was small and simple and covered in the same grimy dust. Scorched pots and pans hung over the wood burning stove. She looked at the cast-iron beast of an oven and frowned. She had almost forgotten that she'd be living without electricity. To her left was the back door but she was sure that the foliage on the other side wouldn't allow her to open it. She heard Brute's hurried scamper up the steps and became curious. Her curiosity turned to fear. What sort of wild critters could have snuck in here? She walked back to the small nook and then to the steps. Sure not to run her hand along the railing she made her way up the stairs noting how noisy the stairs were. If there really was something lurking upstairs it would definitely know she was coming. She made it to the top of the stairs to find two doors. Each was a scanty bedroom fitted with a twin bed, a large trunk that sat at the foot of the bed, and a small nightstand with two diminutive drawers at the bedside. Not finding any ravenous rabies laden wild animals lurking in the shadows she relaxed. Even though the cabin was considered medium it still seemed like way too much house for just her and her dog. Suddenly a thought struck her. Where was the bathroom? Through one of the bedroom windows a small wooden structure at the tree line of the clearing caught her eye. She groaned.

"An outhouse? You've gotta be kidding me!" She griped and Brute whimpered at her sharp tone. She turned to find him standing behind her with his head cocked to the side.

"Well, I'm here now…I have to make the best of this. I guess there aren't any critters hiding in here I need to worry about…well, other then the spiders." She said waving away a spider web that was precariously close to her head.

"It's time to clean this place up and get settled in. Let's try to make this place look like home before the sun goes down." She said to Brute and noted that she had taken to talking to Brute a little more then sanity should allow. She sprinted out to her truck and began unloading all the supplies she had brought with her.

"Good thing daddy was a woodsman huh Brute?" She said tugging on the heavy traveling gear that was under the tarp on her flatbed truck. Just like her father had taught her on all those camping trips and retreats they use to go on, she had brought more then enough supplies and tools to last her at least a month.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

The sun was finally falling to the horizon and she had spent an exhausting six hours cleaning what she could of her new home. There was still more to do of course, she'd yet to clean the kitchen fully but that could wait until tomorrow.

"A shower would feel great right about now." She said while running her hands through Brutes unruly hair. Her empty belly rumbled and she sighed.

"And a good home cooked meal…" She mumbled to herself. She sat heavy in the small chair at the nook table and noted that as the sun went down the temperature dropped dramatically. She moaned looking at the quiet fireplace. She knew what had to be done but her body was protesting. Slipping on her jean jacket she stepped out the front door and went about the task of collecting kindling for the fireplace and couldn't stop herself from collecting the juicy berries along the tree line. She was sure to take Brute with her because as the sun fell the woods surrounding her secluded little cabin became dark and murky. Deciding to make this task as short as possible she hurried along. Brute stayed close by but grew more and more at unease.

"What's wrong boy?" She questioned noticing his wary eyes and then he suddenly positioned himself in front of her and erupted into a loud protective bark.

"Hello!? Anyone out there?!" She shouted. Her voice wavered and the spooky forest seemed to loom over her. She itched to run but her reasoning mind wouldn't let her. She'd be staying here for several months. She couldn't go running every time she heard a noise. What did she think was out there anyway, a monster? She forced herself to calm a little and shouted again.

"Hello!? My name is Heather! Anyone there!?" She shouted but this time she was greeted with a growl that reverberated throughout the dense underbrush. The critters that had once made their presence known hushed and even Brute quieted; cocking his head to one side and stepping back. She had heard enough and decided that playing into her fears wasn't such a bad thing. She whistled for Brute to follow and then sprinted for the front door of the cabin, dropping kindling and berries in her haste. Once inside she slammed the door shut and leaned heavily against the door attempting to catch her breath. She felt the urge to peer through the window but she wouldn't allow herself. Brute paced with agitation growling deep in his throat and staring at the window.

"It's only some wild dog or something…get a hold of yourself." She said bringing her palm to her forehead and shaking her head. She smoothed her ruffled brown hair behind her ear and steadied her breathing. In her arms she only held a few pieces of kindling but it would have to be enough. She went about laying the kindling down in the fireplace trying to forget the outside scene and noticing that her hunger pangs were long gone to be replaced by anxious butterflies. She went to the kitchen to grab a few logs that were left over from the houses previous occupants and thanked them for their graciousness even though she new they hadn't necessarily left those logs just for her. Taking time to look at the stack she realized that in the very near future the logs will be gone and it'll be up to her to cut some more. She scoffed at the thought of wielding an axe. Shaking away the thoughts she placed the logs in the fireplace and lit it, she stoked the flames until she was satisfied and relished in the burst of heat. She tried to relax but she still felt rattled. She decided that having her pistol close by wasn't a chicken thing to do. Climbing the stairs she went into the room she had taken the time to dress up as her own. It wasn't anything fancy but the bed was made and all the dust had been lifted. She opened the trunk that sat at the foot of her bed and pushed aside all the clothes she had forced in there. At the bottom sat a small bundle that housed the pistol her father had given her. She sat on the edge of her bed and unwrapped it. She could remember when her father had given it to her. He was a rough kind of guy, the kind of guy who thought giving a gun to his daughter was a sweet thing to do. He told her it was for her protection 'cause he wouldn't want anything to happen to his little girl. It was the closest he'd ever gotten to showing real affection and she had taken those words as the 'I love you' he'd never said. She placed the gun on the nightstand and tried to stifle a yawn.

"I don't understand how you could live in a place like this dad…I don't understand." She spoke rhetorically. She could feel the warmth from the fireplace sneaking its way upstairs and fighting away the chill. Slipping off her sneakers she quickly tucked herself into bed and then whistled. She heard Brute respond immediately and he made short work of the stairs. She petted him briefly and then he took his place on the floor at her bedside. She took one last lingering gaze at the pistol hoping there would never be a time when she'd have to use it. The last lingering rays of the sun fell and the cabin was only illuminated by the mellow light of the moon. Her last thoughts were of her life back home in Chicago, before she fell off into a much-deserved sleep.

To Be Continued….


	3. Chapter 2

Part 2: Encounter

She awoke to the sound of Brute's urgent barks. He stood at the doorjamb, unwilling to leave her side to investigate whatever was the cause for alarm. Remembering the events of the past evening she quickly threw her legs over the side of the bed and reached for her pistol. Once she was up Brute bounded down the stairs barking the entire time. She blinked her eyes trying to focus noting that the suns rays were brutal and she must have slept to at least noon. She squinted against the onslaught of light and made her way down the stairs pointing the gun out in front of her with one shaky hand. She found Brute barking at the front door. She looked out of one of the side windows and saw no one. She licked her lips trying to calm her nerves and with a rush of fearlessness she quickly unlocked the front door and swung it open. On the other side of the door she found nothing. She stepped out onto the rickety porch and surveyed the clearing and the woods. Nothing.

"I think you're getting spooked just like me Brute. There's nothing out here…" She said lowering her gun and breathing out a sigh of relief. She turned to find Brute but he stood at the far end of the porch sniffing at something.

"Whatcha got there?" She inquired. She walked over and shoed him out of the way and then a shiver ran down her spine. Lying on the porch slacks was a small stack of kindling and berries. The same ones she had dropped in her haste the previous night. Her eyes snapped to the tree line. Intense fear crept into her mind, who did this? Something was watching her last night and this display spoke to an intelligence greater then that of just a simple wild dog.

"Something's in those woods Brute…"

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Cleaning was a pain. She wasn't sure how her father had lived like this. Having to constantly haul water and live off the land. Thankfully she had brought her own cleaning supplies but getting the water was the real challenge. She was sure to take Brute with her every time she went outside and she had slipped her pistol into the pockets of her overalls for added protection. The afternoon seemed to speed past and before she knew it the sun was going down. She was dead tired and even Brute had stopped following her back in forth to the water pump. The kitchen was now completely cleaned and she filled the cupboards with the canned foods she brought along with the dried beans and rice. She then filled up several huge water jugs and stored them in the kitchen as well.

"Alright Brute, that's enough for today. I think I deserve some me time…whatcha think?" She said looking at her dingy hands. She felt dirty, sweaty and gross, never in her life had she gone so long without a nice hot shower and never had she gone so long without a single thing to eat. She might not be able to take a shower but she was determined to wash up in some form or fashion and then she'd tackle the issue of cooking on the metal beast. She grabbed the steel pail from the kitchen and filled it with water from one of her storage jugs. She collected her toiletries and then stepped outside. She surveyed the surrounding area and when she was satisfied that no one was looking and that Brute was keeping a protective eye on her she discreetly pulled off her clothes and crouched next to the pail. She lathered up her rag and began to wash scrubbing away the grime from the last few days. This wasn't the best situation but her need to be clean certainly outweighed her modestly and she was quite sure that no one else lived in this remote region of Canada. She wished she could wash inside but she was sure that the wood inside wasn't treated and spilling water and soap all over the floor would certainly cause it to warp.

"Look at me…I look like some sort of woodswoman…" She chuckled. The sun had sunken half-mast and her little clearing had found an awkward place between night and dark. Her eyes scanned the surrounding area; she had kept her fear well under-control until now. Now with the light disappearing she felt unprotected. Brute suddenly lowered his head and let out a menacing growl, and then a huskier growl echoed back from the woods as if accepting Brutes challenge. Heather gasped and stared in the direction of the growl. Brute took off into the woods.

"Brute!" She screamed after him. She gathered up her shirt and overalls and quickly through them on over her moist skin. What was going on? What was out there? More growls and whimpers echoed from the woods and she could hear mashing of teeth and territorial barking. It sounded like a battle between two massive beasts was going on right in front of her but she couldn't see past the dark foliage. From the sounds of the whimpers it sounded as if Brute was losing the fight. With shaky hands she reached down and picked up her pistol.

"Brute come back!" She shouted but all she got was a wrenching whimper in return. If she lost brute she'd have nothing. She took shaky steps forward with the gun pointed out in front of her. She made it to the tree line but all she could make out was silhouettes. She could tell the silhouette of Brute but what he was fighting was a blur. Was it a bear? She feared the worst as Brutes form leapt at the unknown assailant and was easily slapped away. Brute sailed through the air like a rag doll. He landed at her feet whimpering and struggling for breathe. Her eyes grew wide as she saw his fur covered in crimson red. Her eyes snapped back to the broad creature before her. Its shoulders rolled forward and it hunched down.

"Oh my god! Stay back!" She yelled out raising her gun. The sight of the gun seemed to spark something in the creature and it bounded forward running strangely on two legs but hunched over like an ape. She screamed and shot causing the creature to reel and double step. It quickly gained its footing and continued to stalk forward with a growl rumbling deep in its chest. Fear overtook her. She closed her eyes and shot round after round. One after the other until all she heard of was the click clack of an empty chamber. Everything was still and the forest was quiet. She was afraid to open her eyes, she was afraid of what she might find. She could hear the whimper from Brute and feel his breath on her ankle. Then she heard an almost human whine and a gargled heave. She slowly opened her eyes and standing right in front of her was the creature. Her breath hitched and she took a shaky step back. It stumbled forward into the moonlight and her eyes grew wide in shock.

"OH NO! MY GOD!" She yelled dropping the gun.


	4. Chapter 3

**Part 3: A man…**

The forest was eerily quiet and she realized that she had forgotten to breath. Her eyes stared at the fallen creature. Through the fractured light of the moon through the tree leaves she couldn't make out much but it was enough to cause a whole new bombardment of fear to percolate through her brain. She could make out a chest, not one covered in fur but a chest covered in smooth pink flesh. A chest of a man, a chest that had six gaping holes seeping blood. Hearing Brute whimper at her feet broke her out of her temporary mental shut-down. She squatted and struggled lifting the hefty dog but the adrenaline in her system kicked into full gear. She stared at the fallen creature once more and then hurried to the cabin looking over her shoulder in fright. She fumbled with the door leaving blood caked on the doorknob. She placed Brute down on the nook table and stared at his wounds. He had slashes several inches long on his sides. Angry claw marks and bites of something ferocious and blood thirsty.

"That couldn't have been a man; no. a man can't do this..." She said. She ran to the kitchen and opened a draw. She hurriedly fished through its contents, spilling supplies on the floor until she found her field med kit. She knew how to dress a humans wounds and she hoped to god it would work on an animal. She sanitized the wound the best she could while not taking the time to shave the area. She went about the task of dressing the wound while quietly talking to the whimpering animal and telling him it'll be alright, she tried to be genuine enough to set her own fears aside. Once she was finished she watched his chest heave with each breath. Her hands shook violently and she stared at the coagulating blood that coated them.

"Brute…please hang in there…" She whispered. A chilling Wail of a whimper echoed through the forest and crept into her cabin. She whirled around at the sound but found nothing. She covered her mouth with her hand and blood smeared her tanned face. Fear had taken over her body. She ran her bloody hands through her hair and waited beside Brute, unsure of what to do. The same whimper erupted from the woods but this time it was more pleading, more sorrowful, desperate even. Her mind continued to reel. What if she was wrong, what if she was mistaken and something else had caused brutes wounds. What if she had killed a man in cold blood? What if he wasn't dead and she had left him to suffer?

"God..." she said in a rush. She shook her head and quickly grabbed the flash light next to the woodpile in the kitchen. She then rushed upstairs and grabbed the blanket off her bed. Bounding down the stairs she burst through the front door and ran for the tree line. Light rain erupted into a downpour shattering the light from her flashlight. Her adrenaline flooded brain couldn't remember the exact spot she had seen the man fall. She searched for a few minutes before she came across a foot sticking out from under some undergrowth. She froze, shivering as the cold rain finished the task of saturating every piece of clothes she had on. Swallowing hard she stepped closer. She shrunk back when she heard the shrilling whimper followed by a groan and a gargled intake. Hesitantly she parted the foliage and her eyes made there way up from his foot. It didn't take long for her to notice he was completely naked and covered in a thick layer of filth. Her eyes made its way up his hairy body to his chest. She watched as his chest shuddered and slowly moved up and down even with 6 bullets lodged inside. Her eyes moved past his chest and to its face. Long Jet black hair swirled around him and covered his features. Taking a deep breath she spread the blanket out on the ground beside him.

"Stay calm, please stay calm..." She whispered like a prayer then attempted to roll the forest man onto the spread blanket. Upon contact he immediately began to struggle, sluggishly flailing his arms and biting at the air. She scooted back but not before he grabbed a handful of her overalls in his massive fist. She stifled a scream replacing it with pleads for him to calm down.

"I just want to help…let me help you!" His hand shook and his grip lost its strength. His hand fell limp at his side and his body relaxed. She stared again and breathed, pushing her brown soaked hair out of her eyes. She tried again to roll him onto the blanket and this time he didn't put up a fight. Once on the blanket she walked to his feet and gathered up the excess blanket in her hands. She tugged aggressively but her heels sunk into the mud and she went nowhere.

"Come on!" She spat through gritted teeth. She pulled again this time using her whole body weight and digging her heels in. The blanket slowly began to slide in her direction and she continued back. The process was slow and she wondered how one man could be so heavy, but then again she wondered how one man could take so many bullets in the chest and still be alive. She tripped and fell a few times but she didn't stay down long. She made it to the front stairs and it took every ounce of her strength to drag and push him up the three stone steps. She drug him inside and in front of the fireplace. She'd never seen bullet wounds on a human but something in the back of her mind told her they shouldn't look so neat. She pushed that revelation to the farthest recesses of her mind and focused on cleaning and dressing his wounds.

"I...I think I have to remove the bullets first...right?" She said to herself but she was already up and searching for the med kit she left next to Brute. She hurried over to the fire place and squatted. She placed the fireplace poker into the flames mumbling about cauterizing the wounds when she heard something outside of the norm. Her back went ridged and she listened on. The sound wasn't too unfamiliar but was a sound that shouldn't be coming from behind her. The sound was indicative to the disgusting sound of gutting an animal. The wet retched sound of pushing the flesh back and removing it's innards before it's cooked. Her stomach lurched as the smell of blood and death crept up her nostrils. She slowly turned and by the flickering red and orange light of the fireplace she saw something outside of what science could explain. The skin on his chest had turned a deep shade of purple and was stretched tight. The six bullet holes puckered painfully while the veins spider-webbed just under the surface of his skin. She watched wide-eyed as bloody metal poked through the gaping holes one by one. The bullets pushed out by some force she couldn't explain, finally popping out of the cavernous holes in his chest and rolling down onto the blanket.

"What the hell..." She whispered falling back onto her rear and then scooting as far away from the fireplace and as far away from him as possible. She watched as his bruised flesh began to knit back together, the holes becoming smaller and smaller and the stringy severed nerves reaching out for each other before fusing. Her stomach lurched again but this time she couldn't keep it down and she vomited onto the floor. Breathing heavy and wiping her mouth she closed her eyes to the scene. She heard a throaty moan and a shuffle and her breath hitched. Was this demon awake? Was he really moving? She opened her eyes and watched the demon bury himself deeper into the blanket and then slothfully drag himself closer to the fire to curl up in a tight ball. Each breath was a whimper and his long dark hair where like tendrils splayed around his head. It wasn't long before he quieted and his only movement was his chest rising and falling. Heather had backed herself into the corner by the front door and she watched him with squinted eyes. She gripped her pistol so hard her knuckles were white. She bit her lip, wondering what to do and wiping away the frantic tears that sprang to her eyes. Should she get up and leave, run to her car and just leave? Could she leave after shooting a man? Was he a man? She had to take Brute with her but would he attack her if she got close? She shot someone…that's a crime right? Her mind wouldn't stop whirling.

A few hours slipped by and she hadn't moved. She was far too afraid to, far to scared of the consequences. She'd leave and go where? To the next town? It was an hour away and she didn't know anyone…who would she tell? Who would believe such a story?

The sun was rising and light was pouring into the old cabin. Light through the window shown directly on the table Brute was recovering on and he began to make a fuss as his slumber was disturbed. He whimpered and breathed heavy causing the demonic lump of man-creature on the floor to stir with agitation.

"Quiet Brute" She mumbled to herself. She had to act or Brute would wake that creature from his hibernation and god only knew what he'd do to them. She slowly stood and with hesitant steps tiptoed across the floor with her gun still gripped tight in her hand. She froze as the floor boards squealed. She could still hear him breathing but it had changed from deep and loud to quiet and reserved. She knew he was awake, she just hoped he'd keep pretending to be asleep. Maybe, just maybe he was just as scared of her as she was of him. She continued her trek to Brute even slower this time. She made it to the nook table and began to rub the distraught animal and he immediately hushed and fell back into a healing sleep. She was only a few feet away from the creature she had shot and then saved the night before. With hesitation and against her better judgment she unglued her hold on her pistol, engaged the safety and put the gun in her overall pocket. She gingerly lifted Brute never taking her eyes away from the motionless bundle on the floor. She wondered how she had run with such a heavy burden the night before seeing as how she could barely even walk with his weight this time. She breathed out, bit her lip and shuffled forward with brute limp in her arms. She quietly shuffled into the kitchen and frantically looked for her car keys. She spotted them on the cutting board against the wall. She awkwardly picked them up around the dead weight animal in her arms. Suddenly the floorboards behind her gave warning. She froze in place and hot moist breath blew against the back of her neck. His shadow loomed over her and the pungent musk of his body engulfed her. She closed her eyes waiting for the inevitable…but nothing happened. Opening her eyes she slowly turned around wishing she could reach for her gun but she couldn't hold brute with just one arm. Her eyes were chest level to the man and she noticed that the sour looking wounds from the night before were long gone and the only thing left were red whelps. She let her eyes rise beyond his powerful chest and to his face and she cried out at his immediate growl when their eyes connected. She immediately looked down but his face was a photograph in her mind. He had searing eyes the color of coal and long sharp canines that had become overgrown like a dogs. His breath stunk of rotting meat and his dark hair fanned around his shoulders like the mane of a lion. He had a stocky dense frame, broad barrel chest, wide set shoulders and a tapered waist. His legs looked powerful with every muscle well defined. His arms were thick and beefy with rippling muscle and his fingers were chunky and stumpy like sausages. He bent at the waist and roughly smelled her hair and then bent even further to smell Brute. He vehemently snorted out their scents then stood back to his full height eerily staring at her with unwavering eyes.

"I…I'm sorry I shot you…" She said quietly and he bent at the waist to watch her mouth move as she spoke. His head tilted to the side and a growl rumbled in his chest.

"You frightened me, I'm sorry…Please…" She said looking up but he immediately growled at her and snapped at her like a wild dog. She yelped and looked down again. Her slightly damp hair drooped forward into her face and she hoped her tangled bangs would hide the defiant raise of her eyes. She noticed something silver hanging around his neck. Dogtags? She read the name to herself.

"Wolverine?..." She whispered and he immediately froze. She meekly looked up to see his dark pupil's dilate and his lips curl back into a snarl. His features grew even more sinister and dangerous and he erupted into a blood curdling roar. He raised a balled fist to strike her, breath shot from his nostrils like an angry bull. She screamed at his sudden change of mood. He brought his powerful fist down but she lunged to the side and out of his reach. She landed heavy on her hip and Brute was jarred from her grasp. His heavy fist collided with the cast iron stove denting it. She looked up from the floor watching in dread as he pulled his mangled hand from the stove and watched it knit back together with not so much as a grimace. She shuffled on the floor hysterically reaching in her pocket for her pistol but it wasn't there. She looked to her left to find the gun had fallen out of her pocket and lay precariously by her attacker's hairy feet. She looked between the gun and the still unconscious Brute. She knew she had to make a decision, leave Brute behind of die trying to take him with her. She gave up on the gun and with her keys clutched tight in her hand she scrambled to her feet and ran out of the kitchen past the stairs and out the front door. She nearly tripped down the three stone stairs in her haste. The bottoms of her bare feet became bruised and lacerated on the sharp rocks as she ran. The sun was brutal and the heat nearly took her breath away. She ran as fast as she could but she could still feel his presence gaining on her and hear the primal rhythm of his controlled breathing. She speedily opened the door to her old Chevy pick up and hopped in slamming it shut. She promptly locked the door in a feeble attempt at protection. She fumbled with the keys trying to put the right one in the ignition but her hands shook making the simple task almost impossible. She looked up to find the creature only a few feet away but he looked hesitant to come any closer. He was foaming at the mouth and stalking the vehicle with caution. Seeing him so close caused her to shake even more violently but she finally found the right key. The Car stuttered to life and the beast shrunk back, confused and alarmed by the cars whirring engine. The car chugged forward, struggling to pick up speed. With animal fury the beast launched himself at the vehicle landing hard on the hood. She screamed and mashed the gas, sending the car flying over the uneven ground toward the tree line at an unheard of speed. He held onto the car with one hand, denting the car hood to make a grip. His hair swirled around him and his eyes turned stony and lifeless as he revved back his other burly fist. Time seemed to slow down as she watched with morbid fixation as the skin between his knuckles protrude and then split giving way to long pieces of sharp metal that glinted in the sun. Her memory flashed back to the claw marks on Brute. Her eyes bugged out of their sockets and her lips quivered. The claws finished slipping into place, long metal claws, like swords coming out of his fist. Several inches of cold death ready to shatter the windshield and skewer her. She pleaded with her eyes, hers staring into the steely black eyes of what her mind had aptly named "Wolverine the forest-man-thingy". He growled but she didn't look away. He cocked his head at her defiance and abruptly gathered his legs underneath himself and leapt off the speeding vehicle. With him out of the way she could see the tree she was about to wrap her car around. She screamed out covering her face with her arms and mashing on the break but it was far too late. Her life in Chicago flashed before her eyes before she hit.

To Be Continued---

Tell me what you think… J


End file.
